I cried at Thanksgiving. For the last ten or so years, this has been the norm. Thanksgiving always induces pain, suffering, and subsequent crying. It sucks.
For some reason, my father and all his brothers once again found it necessary to make horrifically homophobic comments and further extrapolate on the reasons why two people of the same sex a) should not be allowed to marry and b) do not make good parents. So, in my usual way, I sat silent in another room. Normally, I'd speak up. If it were anyone else, I'd speak up; but when you have that many people whose opinions are that strong and that against you... it's just really hard being alone. Someday, maybe, sure, I'll yell at them. But that day wasn't today. And I found myself crying. I try to stay as stone-faced as possible when they're talking about that shit because I don't want to let on that - ahem - there's a gay person sitting RIGHT HERE when you're saying these things. It's hard to be silent and to keep from crying. I mean, after years of this crap I guess it just finally got to me and I found myself crying alone on the couch. I tried to hide it, and I was about to get up and go sit in the bathroom where I could cry in peace, but my aunt sat down next to me and asked me what was wrong. Any other day, any other time, and I would have lied (even though she's the one on that side who's most likely to accept me). I guess what made me cry was hearing my father, even after he knows that I'm gay, saying that two people of the same sex don't deserve protection and equal rights under the law because they're not equal because they can't have children and wouldn't make good parents anyways. It just got to me. I mean, he knew I was there and he knows I'm gay, but did it stop him from being the leading voice of that opinion? No. I don't want him to change his views, I accept that they're his and that I can't do anything to make him change. I just wish he'd be a little more sensitive and perhaps give the other side a try before just sticking to an opinion based on party lines and/or peer pressure. I wish he was stronger and more rational that that; I thought he was, but I guess I was wrong.
Anyways, my aunt sat down with me. And I didn't lie when she asked what was wrong. I told her that I couldn't listen to that shit anymore and that it really got to me. She said she understood, but that people would say stuff like that until they were the ones whose rights were being taken. I told her I knew, though she didn't catch all the subtleties of that statement. She said she had lots of gay friends and that they had the same problems and were wonderful people. And then I just decided it wasn't worth it to hide anymore. I mean, the closet's a fucking lonely place and even if it was just one more person, I'd feel better if I was out. I told her I knew, because I was the president of the Gay Straight Alliance at my school and because I was gay, too. She didn't even pause; she just told me she loved me and that she didn't think of me differently and that, if I wanted to talk, she was there. Best outcome: check. So now she's even more committed to spending time with me and making me feel better, which is always nice.
But, you know, that still doesn't make up for everything that was said that I had to sit and hear. I'm half tempted to blow up at Christmas when this subject inevitably comes up again. I don't know; we'll see.

LIVE EVIL
~Emma [aka Hikari-Tsukiko]